


Dean & Castiel; a vignette

by spiffingtea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11829075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffingtea/pseuds/spiffingtea
Summary: A collection of vignettes based on Dean and Castiel. Written for a friend's birthday, based on various headcanons. Short & Sweet.





	Dean & Castiel; a vignette

**1\. bitter silence**

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_[ This is Cas. I’m not here right now.]_

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

_[This is Cas. I’m not here right n-]_

“– _Damnit_ , Cas,” A soft plead, made in the shadow of a bottle.

* * *

 

**2\. simplicity**

The crackling of oil in a pan.

Aroma curling into old, cracked walls.

Withdrawing slumber, a tired shuffle of shirt too big, too thin.

Soft humming, lips still.

Hidden embraces, ruffled hair.

Good Mornings.

* * *

 

**3\. umbrella**

Drops of water hang off the metal frame, and, with some hesitance, falls onto the floor.

Dean blinks as rain suddenly stops matting his hair. He turns.

“What’re you doin’?”

Cas blinks at him.

“It’s raining. You’re going to get wet.”

“Oh –Um. Right.”

They walk, huddled under an umbrella where they barely fit, shoulders pressed, together. Dean’s ears burn when he hears Sam behind them.

But not enough to wrap his arm around Cas’ shoulders.

* * *

 

**4\. knowing how**

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Fingers stroke through hair, but the trembling does not relent. He sighs, a rock, lost.

Dean runs a thumb on the small of his back, and with a shaky sigh, hums into his hairline.

“ _Hey, Jude….”_

It relents.

* * *

 

**5\. opportunities**

Months of recreation.

Ornate tracing, deep greys, black, painted across skin. A memorial of him; etched into flesh.

A glance at the man he gave his wings for, and he turns to peel off his shirt.

This is no funeral.

* * *

 

**6\. acceptance**

[ _withheld number._ ]

“Dean, I—“

“Cas?! Where are you?”

“Dean,”

“You son of a bitch, I will come and drag you back myself, you’d better come home—“

“Dean,”

“Cas, we can work this out—“

“ _Dean._ ”

“—“

“I’m sorry, Dean, but I need to keep you safe. Keep Sam safe.”

“–Please don’t leave. Me.”

“… I need to go, Dean.”

“Dammit, Cas – I love you—“

“… I love you, too.”

[ _click.]_

* * *

 

**7\. seeing red**

A circle of blood  
This fortress, their safety, his  
Cas sways on his feet.

* * *

 

**8\. rivalry**

A rustle of glossy paper, a wide grin.

“Hey, look at this sexy son of a bitch,” he calls out, waving the magazine around.

“Hell yeah.”

Dean freezes as the response comes from behind him. A stranger stands, and points to the picture.

“That guy is a catch, am I right? I’d love to—“

Dean’s expression slowly evolves into something considered irate.

Castiel decides this is a good time to intervene.

* * *

 

**9\. light**

A soft clink of cans opened, soft creaking on metal hood.

A soft sun, highlighting hands and eyes.

A soft sigh, a head on shoulder, fingers and hearts intertwined.

* * *

 

**10\. endings**

They have both seen their share of endings, both chosen, and chosen for them.

Finally,

here they stand, at the edge of their own time, chosen by them, facing each other, holding hands.

Declaring, finally, that they have chosen their own endings;

each other.


End file.
